


Hollyweird

by wocket



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, US Comedians RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wocket/pseuds/wocket
Summary: When Steve Martin is introduced to Marty Short in 1986, he realizes it's not the first time their paths have crossed.





	Hollyweird

**1979  
Toronto, Ontario**

Marty Short buys a ticket for Steve Martin’s comedy show for $9.75. He sits on the aisle a few rows back from the front, just close enough to see the details on Steve Martin’s face, and the dark chest hair revealed by his unbuttoned shirt.

Marty spends the first half of the show working - trying to pace the laughs and figure out Steve’s bizarre conceptual punchlines. He gets distracted by the way Steve moves across the stage and gives up, just letting himself enjoy Steve’s act, weird as it is.

After the show ends, Marty locates the stage door. He’s not really sure what he intends to do. Maybe just say hello. Marty is drawn to this man’s energy, and he finds that he doesn’t want to be done with the evening just yet.

Steve is signing autographs for a pack of young women when he spies Marty lingering just beyond the stage door. The young man catches his eye and he almost signs the wrong name, thanking the young women as quickly as he can.

Marty waits for the girls to disperse before approaching Steve.

“That was a great set,” Marty compliments him, which is the right opening line, because it strokes Steve’s ego. Steve is curious to see if there’s something else he’d like to stroke.

“Why, thank you,” he responds. “Great audience,” he says smoothly, checking out Marty. He’s got feathered hair and a baby face, and he’s cute as a button. Steve hasn’t ever wanted someone so badly in his life.

“I especially liked the song,” Marty admits before he can stop himself, remembering the way he’d been mesmerized with Steve’s fingers. The music had been surprisingly tender.

Steve nods, as if learning someone’s favorite part of his act was a revealing indicator of their personality type. To be honest, he’s just taking extra time to stare at the attractive young man.

“But we’ve all seen _Deliverance_ ,” Marty kids, and it breaks Steve’s focus. He laughs, stepping closer.

“I wouldn’t have made _that_ joke, maybe,” Steve tells him, taking another step closer when Marty doesn’t resist. “You sing?”

Marty nods.

Steve knows when Marty can’t stop staring at his mouth that he’s hooked. He touches Marty’s chin with his index finger, tilting the younger man’s head up so that he’s looking him in the eyes.

Marty’s lips part. There’s a twinkle in Steve’s eye.

Steve pushes Marty into the alleyway just past the stage door, looking around cautiously. After checking to be sure nobody is within eyesight, Steve leans down to press a kiss to the shorter man’s mouth. Marty responds instantly, opening his mouth for Steve and pulling him closer by his jacket.

Marty leans up, standing on his tiptoes so he can reach Steve’s lips. Steve’s a good kisser, one hand on Marty’s cheek and the other on his waist. The hand slips lower to fondle his ass. He grins into the kiss and runs a finger down Steve’s chest. 

Steve captures his mouth in another kiss. “What’s that taste?” Steve asks, syrupy and sweet.

“Hm?” Marty asks.

“ _Heaven_ ,” Steve answers his own question, thinking he's suave. It makes Marty’s cheeks heat up anyway. Steve backs Marty against the wall. A man is only a guy, after all.

Steve kisses him again and Marty opens up under his touch, eyes half-lidded. Steve is sweaty, both from standing under the spotlight and exerting energy in this particularly fun method after the show. Marty tucks a stray hair behind Steve's ear. 

Steve slides a hand up Marty’s thigh, hitching him up. Steve holds Marty up against the wall as he kisses him, ravaging his mouth. Marty tries to hide his gasp when Steve goes for his neck, but Steve hears it anyway, finding it cute. There’s something relentlessly charming about this man.

Biting his lip, Steve thrusts his erection against Marty.

With a matching problem in his own pants, Marty tugs at Steve’s shoulders. With a pout, Steve lets Marty back down onto his feet.

In a lightning fast move, Marty spins them around, pushing Steve against the bricks. _He must be so quick because he’s so small_ , Steve thinks, _or he has a lower center of gravity or something_. As Steve thinks this, Marty sinks even lower, getting to his knees in front of Steve. He unzips Steve’s pants, struggling with the angle of his belt buckle but trying to play it off, not wanting to give Steve the impression of inexperience. He works Steve’s pants open soon enough, pulling him out and taking him into his mouth.

Marty gives 110% with everything he does, and sucking cock is no different. Steve reaches down to fist a hand in his hair, fighting back a moan.

Marty runs his hands up and down Steve’s thighs as he sucks him off. Steve’s petting him, hands all over his hair and face. Marty likes the attention, feeling a tendril of delight wrap around his spine whenever Steve makes appreciative noises, little hums of contentment and groans of pleasure.

“Yeah,” Steve grunts when he comes, thrusting into Marty’s mouth. Marty swallows and pulls back, wiping his mouth with his hand. He starts to climb up and Steve offers him a hand, pulling his weight up easily.

“Do you have a cigarette?”

“Sorry,” Marty answers, running his hands through his hair, trying to fix it where it’s been rustled by Steve’s wandering hands. “I don’t smoke.”

“I don’t usually either. Jesus, kid,” Steve says, leaning back against the wall, zipping up his pants. “You’re a star,” he says. 

Marty’s so into this funny man that it doesn’t strike him to think how lovely that would be to hear for real.

**1986  
Los Angeles, California**

Ten more days until principal photography on _Three Amigos_ begins. The cast gathers at director John Landis’ house in Hollywood for a table read.

Steve’s reading his script and doesn’t look up when the door opens. When he finally glances up from the page, he just about drops his script into his lap.

Standing in front of him is the guy, _that_ guy, from Canada all those years ago. He’s smiling, with a sort of hopeful, nervous look on his face.

“Hi,” the man says softly.

“Uhl-” Steve mumbles. “Hello,” he says properly, clearing his throat. He’s too stunned to say anything else.

It’s at that moment that John Landis walks into the room.

“Steve. Marty,” he says in his deep voice, and Steve’s so flabbergasted that he almost corrects the director by saying “ _Martin_.” 

John shakes the short man’s hand, then Steve’s. “Glad to see you two have met.”

“We haven’t,” Steve manages to interject, even though that’s not _really_ the truth.

“Oh,” John says, surprised. “Well, Steve Martin, this is Marty Short. He’s your Ned Nederlander. Marty, Steve’s Lucky Day.”

“I’ll say,” Steve says.

Marty looks up, trying not to grin. He holds his hand out, finally, which Steve shakes. Their hands clasp for just a moment too long, a moment the director pretends not to notice.

Steve was finding Hollywood to be a smaller world than previously expected, suddenly shaken from the shock of the unexpected moment. As Marty takes the chair beside him, Steve can’t look away from Marty’s smile, thinking that perhaps life’s strange coincidence might be working in his favor.


End file.
